


Second Draft

by The_Alias (Artemis_Day)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, F/M, First Meeting, Marvel Fluff Bingo 2020, Meet-Cute, Protective Bucky Barnes, Publisher Jane Foster, Writer Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Day/pseuds/The_Alias
Summary: Bucky threw his twelfth rejection letter in the trash. Every single one just made him all the more determined.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Jane Foster
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Marvel Fluff Bingo





	Second Draft

**Author's Note:**

> Written for:
> 
> Marvel Fluff Bingo Square O4: Publisher AU  
> Bucky Barnes Bingo Square B4: Resolve

Bucky threw his twelfth rejection letter in the trash. It was from a third rate publisher who thought his book was ‘trite’, ‘derivative’, and ‘ill-suited to their reader base’. Meanwhile, they once published a book about budgeting from a guy who went to jail for fifteen counts of tax evasion and wire fraud. So frankly, them saying his memoir wasn’t worth publishing just made him that much more determined to get on the New York Times bestseller list and then send them a picture of his naked ass with FUCK YOU written over it.

Okay, mostly just the first part, but the second was pretty tempting. 

Kicking the garbage can aside, he walked to the kitchen, suddenly hungry for a burger. There were still a few stuck in the back of his freezer. With any luck, they were still edible. Speaking of which, he was almost out of ketchup. Would have to put that on next week’s shopping list.

The buns were on top of the refrigerator where he’d left them two nights ago. Bucky reached up too fast and his arm jerked at the elbow. He winced, rubbing the metal as if that would ease the pain. It faded slowly, coming in spurts as he struggled to keep his arm straight and immobile. He sighed. “Son of a bitch…”

One of these days, he’d have a book on the shelves all about the horrors of war and how much it sucks to have your arm blown off and that while he appreciated the doctors for all their hard work in giving him his mobility back, it was typically better to _not_ need robotic prosthetics. They weren’t quite as cool in real life as they were in the movies.

Grasping around, he found no buns. Then he remembered he used the last of them yesterday.

Fuck. Now he had no choice but to go shopping.

The phone rang as he was pulling a shirt over his head. It was an unknown number and he almost rejected it for fear of another car insurance bot. Instead, his finger hit ‘Accept’.

“Yeah,” he said, hoping for Steve or Sam wanting to take him out for drinks.

“Hello, am I speaking with James Barnes, please?” A crisp British voice he’d never heard before said.

“Uh… yeah, that’s me,” Bucky said. Were the bots getting smarter? 

“Mr. Barnes, my name is Ian Boothby. I’m calling on behalf of Foster & Lewis Publishing. Might I have a moment of your time?”

Bucky replayed that six times in his mind before it fully sunk in. “Y-yes! Of course. I can talk.”

“Wonderful,” Mr. Boothby said. “Now the first thing we need to discuss is…

The ensuing conversation lasted forty-five minutes and ended with an in-person meeting arranged for Friday. When Bucky finally said goodbye and got out the door, he did so with a spring in his step.

“I did it,” he said, sliding by the grocery store without a thought. “Finally fucking did it.”

He all but skipped to his favorite corner bar. At some point, he’d have to text Steve and get everyone together for a huge celebration. For now, he would revel in his success on his own. He might even go past his usual two-drink limit. After six months of writing and another twelve months of editing, he fucking deserved this. 

Throwing open the double doors, he strode into the bar. Dugan was behind the counter tonight, which meant he’d have to check his drinks for tiny mustache hairs. At least the big lug was good for a few laughs.

“Afternoon, Barnes,” he said, waving with a wet dishrag. “You’re looking overly happy today. Got laid last night?”

“Better. My book’s getting published.”

Dugan chuckled. “We have different definitions of better but congrats anyway.” 

He made Bucky his favorite drink without prompting. More customers had come in, leaving Bucky to drink alone. After taking a sip and savoring the bittersweet taste, he started for his usual table next to the center TV. Unfortunately, it was occupied.

“Ah, date nights,” Bucky said, nodding at the man and woman deep in conversation. “I remember those.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a date,” Dugan said. “Look closer.”

Bucky did. The man was standing over the table like he’d just arrived. The woman’s arms were wrapped around her in a guarded position. Now that he thought about it, she didn’t look to be enjoying the man’s company. The longer he stared at the smug-faced man, the more he recognized him.

“Aw, fuck,” Bucky grumbled, stalking across the bar.

“Be gentle,” Dugan yelled after him.

Bucky could make no promises.

“...come on, just one drink. I can show you a good time,” the man said. He was just barely audible over the cheering crowd on screen.

“I’m busy, thank you,” the woman said. 

“Come on,” the man said again, dragging it out this time.

Bucky was glad he wore a short-sleeved shirt today. It was all the more effective when he slammed his metal hand on the table. “Hey there, Hodge. Having a good evening?”

Hodge, clearly recalling the last time he and Bucky crossed paths, immediately broke out in a cold sweat. “Uh… yeah, just talking to… you know…”

“You were about to say goodnight and go home, right?” Bucky asked with a razor-sharp smile.

“Yeah, that,” Hodge said, before all but running out of the bar.

“Thanks for the help,” the woman said. 

With the threat gone, Bucky’s face softened. “No problem. ‘I’ve seen that guy around. He’s an asshole.” 

“I figured,” the woman said. 

For a few seconds, Bucky stood there, drink in hand, staring at her before it hit him that he should probably walk away. This poor woman didn’t need two guys creeping on her in one night.

Then she beat him to the punch. “Would you like to sit down?”

For the second time today, Bucky had to think about that for a minute. “Really?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a no?”

Looking at her up close, she was extremely pretty. Beautiful even. So far out of his league, it was amazing he could see her at all. Still, he was no longer in the mood to sit alone, and who better to celebrate his incredible achievement with than a total stranger?

“I’m Bucky Barnes,” he said, sitting across from her.

“Jane,” she said. “You look like you’re having a good night, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he smiled, “and yeah, I am. I just got a book published.”

Her eyes went slightly wide. “That’s amazing. What kind of book is it?”

“A memoir,” Bucky said, repeating the same speech he’d given the other hundred people who asked. “About my time in the army. As you can see it didn’t go so well for me.”

She eyed his prosthetic with far more interest than she’d shown in anything else so far. To her credit, she didn’t try to touch it. Didn’t even ask about it though he was sure she wanted to.

“You must be proud of yourself,” she said.

Bucky shrugged. “It was a lot of work. I had such a hard time finding an agent that eventually I just stopped trying and did it myself. I’m surprised anyone read my manuscript at all, much less accepted it.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jane said. “If it was accepted, that means it was worth the effort. Means your story deserves to be told.”

That was a great way to look at it, and he liked how truly she seemed to mean it. If he wasn’t soon to be under contract not to distribute free copies, he might have offered her one.

“And it only took twelve rejections to get there,” he joked. “Honestly, it’s the publishing company itself that gets me.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Well, they’re called Foster & Lewis and they mostly deal in science. Astronomy, quantum physics, a lot of space stuff actually. I submitted to them on a whim. Didn’t think my book was something they’d be interested in.”

“Maybe they’re branching out.”

“Could be,” Bucky said. “I’ve heard the company heads are kind of eccentric. I guess somehow I fit the bill for them.”

“Makes sense to me,” she said, sipping her beer and wincing. “I’ve never been in the army, but I know enough to know it must’ve been hard for you to relive all of that. I bet they admire your resolve in getting your story out there whatever it takes. If they want to expand their reader base, this is a good place to start.”

Bucky nodded along, though something niggled him in the back of his mind. “You seem pretty knowledgeable about this sort of thing.”

Jane pursed her lips. “Well, let me ask you something, By eccentric, do you mean tabloid antics à la Tony Stark or… running into a new client at a bar and having a drink with them?”

His mouth was open, though he didn’t have a good answer. Not until she flashed him a knowing smile and pulled a business card out of her purse. Even before she handed it to him, the Foster & Lewis logo in the top right corner was painfully obvious.

“Uh…” Bucky gulped. For the first time so many months, words had completely failed him.

“Sorry for not saying anything sooner,” Jane _Foster_ said like they were old friends catching up. “I didn’t think I’d see you until Friday, but I guess luck was on our side today.”

“Yeah, luck…” Bucky would’ve called it something else entirely.

This gorgeous, captivating woman, who could look beyond his arm unlike so many others, was going to publish his book. She was basically his boss now.

And he was in _so_ much trouble.


End file.
